Why I Hate Religion

Why I Hate Religion but love Jesus by Jefferson Bethke

What if I told you Jesus came to abolish religion?
What if I told you voting Republican really wasn’t his mission?
What if I told you “Republican” doesn’t automatically mean “Christian”?
And just because you call some people “blind” doesn’t automatically give you vision?
I mean, if religion is so great, why has it started so many wars?
Why does it build huge churches but fails to feed the poor?
Tells single moms God doesn’t love them if they’ve ever had a divorce?
But in the Old Testament God actually calls religious people “whores”
Religion might preach grace, but another thing they practice
Tend to ridicule God’s people, they did it to John the Baptist
They can’t fix their problems, and so they just mask it
Not realizing religion’s like spraying perfume on a casket
See, the problem with religion is it never gets to the core
It’s just behavior modification, like a long list of chores
Like, “Let’s dress up the outside, make it look nice and neat”
But it’s funny, that’s what they used to do to mummies while the corpse rots underneath
Now I ain’t judging, I’m just sayin’, “Quit puttin’ on a fake look”’Cause there’s a problem if people only know that you’re a Christian by your Facebook
I mean, in every other aspect of life, you know that logic’s unworthy
It’s like saying you play for the Lakers just because you bought a jersey
See this was me, too, but no one seemed to be on to me
Actin’ like church kid while addicted to pornography
See, on Sunday I’d go to church, but Saturday gettin’ faded
Actin’ as if I was simply created to just have sex and get wasted
See, I spent my whole life buildin’ this façade of neatness
But now that I know Jesus, I boast in my weakness
Because if grace is water, then the church should be an ocean
It’s not a museum for good people; it’s a hospital for the broken
Which means I don’t have to hide my failure, I don’t have to hide my sin
’Cause it doesn’t depend on me; it depends on him
See, because when I was God’s enemy and certainly not a fan
He looked down and said, “I want that man!”
Which is why Jesus hated religion, and for it he called them fools
Don’t you see it’s so much better than just following some rules?
Now lemme clarify: I love the church, I love the Bible, and yes, I believe in sin
But if Jesus came to your church, would they actually let him in?
See, remember he was called a “glutton” and a “drunkard” by “religious men”
But the Son of God never supports self-righteousness; not now, not then
Now back to the point: One thing is vital to mention
How Jesus and religion are on opposite spectrums
See, one’s the work of God, but one’s a man-made invention
See, one is the cure, but the other’s the infection
See, because religion says “do,” Jesus says “done”
Religion says “slave,” Jesus says “son”
Religion puts you in bondage while Jesus sets you free
Religion makes you blind, but Jesus makes you see
And that’s why religion and Jesus are two different clans
Religion is man searching for God; Christianity is God searching for man
Which is why salvation is freely mine, and forgiveness is my own
Not based on my merits but Jesus’ obedience alone
Because he took the crown of thorns, and the blood dripped down his face
He took what we all deserved; I guess that’s why you call it “grace”
And while being murdered he yelled, “Father forgive them; they know not what they do”
Because when he was dangling on that cross, he was thinking of you
And he absorbed all your sin, and he buried it in the tomb
Which is why I’m kneeling at the cross, saying, “Come on! There’s room!”
So for religion, no, I hate it; in fact, I literally resent it
Because when Jesus said, “It is finished,” I believe he meant it

Is it possible for one to be defined by the foods they eat? I never thought so until I moved my family from the Midwest to the deep south. Upon opening my mouth, I revealed two things to my new acquaintances... One, I wasn't from around these parts. Two, It didn't matter where I was from, If I wasn't from the South, I was a yank and that meant, I must sugar in my grits. Who was I to deny they were right, I did and do put sugar in my grits. How they knew it, is beyond me but it has confirmed in me that God, does in need have a sense of humor.